YOUNG May sat fainting and chill,
And neither could live nor die;
She looked and hated the sky,
Yet knew not what was her ill.
Ah well-a-day!
For the lonely May.

She tired of weeping, and slept;
Who woke her up but the Sun?
And joy and love had begun
To teach her why she had wept
Oh bright new day
For the startled May!